DURHAM'S BULL

There are no quiet arguments in Durham-or silent decisions.

During the time for open comments at City Council meetings, Mayor Bill Bell calls on most people by name-sometimes knowing they need a warning to stay composed even before their tirades begin.

There is never a sparsely attended public comment session.

School Board meetings qualify as full fledged circuses. In April three citizens became so passionate about their points that someone called the police and had them arrested. After the meeting, the argument continued among school board members, and several accused the rest of stifling democracy.

But the city of Durham presents a unique definition of democracy-one that's overwhelmingly populist and forces the city's innerworkings to become public processes.

Each of Durham's citizens seems to have his own opinion-and no one is afraid to voice it. The most outrageous claims are made public during a constant stream of meetings and forums. Even the politicians egg on the cacophonous debate, adding their own loud opinions and mobilizing their customized supporters. It all feels a little like a hazy impression of the '60s when so many people clamored for their opinions to be heard that it was hard to discern reason from the noise.

Mayor Bell is the man who gets to conduct the influx of debate and then try to make sense of it all. In typical politico fashion, Bell sits calm and composed-his plain gray suit unruffled, his brow flat with poise.

But typical politician, Bell is not. When he's surrounded at work by elected officials with criminal records and an unbridled citizenry, how could he be? Underneath the pressed suit and polished grin, Bell does not exude the same shiny insincerity that is associated with the standard political archetype.

Some people have suggested that the trick to Bell's political advantage-and the reason he won the mayoral office to begin with-is that he uses his status as a minority to understand a larger number of his constituents in a way former Mayor Nick Tennyson could not. But this perspective misses the point. Bell doesn't cater to different groups using his race; instead, he attempts to bridge the gulfs between the different groups (be they ethnicity-, gender- or politics-related) and to downplay their importance, even as other community leaders are quick to emphasize such gaps. By doing so, Bell is a uniting leader instead of a divisive one. The mayor is often quick to highlight Durham's diversity as an important positive of the community, and when he does so, it is not surprising to realize he lived through the death throes of segregation-and surely took pleasure in the gradual acceptance that followed.

Long before Bell was leading Democratic rallies or hosting black-tie galas for the city, he was learning early in his career to maneuver in the corporate world, where he was often the only black individual in the room. In doing so, Bell acquired a set of experiences that have equipped him to schmooze with the most prominent of the Triangle's movers and shakers, all the while calling upon his humble upbringing to keep him grounded.

Born in Washington, D.C., Bell moved to Winston-Salem, N.C. as a child to live with his mother's grandparents while his mother continued working in Washington. Bell cites his grandfather as one of his greatest influences because he taught by example that integrity and a work ethic can lead to success in life.

When Bell graduated high school at the age of 16, he aspired to become a pilot in the Air Force; however, his parents would not allow it, insisting that he attend college instead. Bell showed an early talent in math and science, and eventually chose to study electrical engineering at the historically black Howard University-in part from the advice of his high school principal, an alumnus of the institution. It was one of the few well-respected schools that accepted black students at the time. Bell became an engineer right as the Civil Rights Movement exploded.

"It was also during the time when affirmative action was being implemented so doors were being opened for minorities in the field of engineering that previously hadn't been opened," Bell says. "I can recall a few years of when I was in undergraduate school when there were guys that finished engineering school at Howard, and they were still driving taxi cabs because they couldn't really get jobs in the private sector."

Bell had no trouble navigating the new environment that was finally opened up to black people for the first time. And even though he didn't know it yet, Bell was acquiring the diplomatic skills that would be vital to survive as ringmaster in Durham's political circus.

"I really was a minority working in a largely majority-type corporation," Bell says. "So I think I was able to learn a lot more from them than maybe they were from me. And I think I've been able to use that in my relationships on the political scene. I feel just as comfortable talking to Dick Brodhead as I do someone on the street."

Those same aspects of Bell's leadership style that have given him success, however, have also drawn him criticism. Some of Bell's opponents have accused the mayor of accommodating only a particular sector of Durham's citizens-the wealthy and powerful. Political opponent and School Board member Jackie Wagstaff, who unsuccessfully challenged Bell in the most recent mayoral primary, has criticized him of neglecting the poorer segment of his constituency and implementing citywide reforms that fail to benefit those most in need.

"I think his leadership style is effective with the group where he gets his support," Wagstaff says. "We're not talking about low-economic constituents. His style of leadership caters to those in power, and it's unfortunate that poor people don't have that kind of control."

Wagstaff's beliefs fall so far to the left of the political spectrum that even in the extreme liberalism of Durham's democracy she loses some credibility.

Several members of City Council have said that Wagstaff's opinion is completely without merit, and they noted economic initiatives the city has recently pursued to help Durham's poorer residents.

"Is that why we're spending $11 million in East Durham on Barnes Ave.?" council member Eugene Brown retaliates, referencing a recently implemented housing development project in the historically poor, crime-plagued area.

Bell insists that he is and always has been a representative of the electorate as a whole. This is certainly a tall claim, considering that Durham has one of the most heterogeneous demographic breakdowns in the Triangle.

Countywide, Durham is more than 50 percent white-but at the city level, there is no majority racial group. Minority groups compose 54.5 percent of the city, with blacks taking the largest portion of it-43.8 percent. Durham's neighboring city of Raleigh, in comparison, is only 22.7 percent black. Durham has a higher percentage of Hispanic and Asian populations as well.

Still, the mayor insists his experiences allow him to connect with all of the Bull City's residents.

When Bell moved to Durham, he did so without any intention of entering the city's political scene. As a representative for his neighborhood, he led a rezoning effort that would eventually fail, but the experience encouraged him to get more involved.

Bell ran for and won a seat on the Durham Board of County Commissioners, taking office for the first time in 1972. While serving in the part-time position, he continued working as an engineer.

The move was never intended to be a permanent career shift, Bell says, but his talents proved to be especially appropriate for handling the board, as was apparent in his ascent to chair, a position he held from 1982 to 1994.

One of the most controversial moves in Bell's career-and one that undeniably cost him his commissioner seat in 1994-was his role as leader in the merger between the city school system and the county school system in the early '90s. The trouble over combining the schools represented a largely racial clash-the city (chiefly black in composition) and the county (largely white) were having disputes over the distribution of resources, and Bell led an effort to synthesize the two.

The goal of the merger had been to equalize the severely disparate amount of funds between two racially opposite systems. The result, however, set up a School Board consistently composed of a minority number of black members that controls a predominantly black school system. When the two groups came together, a slew of racially charged disruptions arose, and these resulting problems were pinned on Bell.

Since then, troubles on the School Board have not dissipated. There are currently four white members and three black members, and when votes fall along racial lines, the majority is accused of alienating a large racial demographic. Verbal scuffles among School Board members have continued to make headlines.

John Burness, Duke's senior vice president for public affairs and government relations, called the move to merge the city and county school boards "quite courageous on Bill's part," explaining that he thought Bell committed his skills to the unification because no one else was willing to put his neck on the line.

In contrast to the tumultuous aftermath of the school mergers, Bell is largely responsible for the smooth functioning of City Council.

"I don't think we've had any [problems] on council... and I don't think that's only credit to the mayor but also to the council overall," council member Thomas Stith says. He adds that Bell and the council have reached out to the School Board and offered help with their currently chaotic situation.

uring the time Bell was without a commissioner seat from 1994 to 1996, he used his experience with the community while working for Duke. Around the same time as Bell's ousting, Burness and former President Nan Keohane were proposing a Duke-Durham "neighborhood partnership" to improve community relations and lend Duke's resources to the surrounding areas. Bell seemed a perfect consultant for the job. "Bill obviously knew this community like the back of his hand," Burness says.

Bell and former City Council member Sandy Ogburn were asked to venture into the community in order to seek different leaders' and citizens' insights into town-gown relations and what specific improvements they thought could be made.

"Bill of course was so well respected in this community," Burness notes. "If Duke had gone out and asked these questions, it might not have even made it into the door."

Although the commitment lasted only about six months, the relationship provided various mutual benefits: Bell received experience and a career-long relationship with Durham's largest employer, and Duke tapped into the mayor's skills for insight into the community.

"Bill's presence gave credibility to what we were doing. He's a very wise man and very experienced in the politics and realities in Durham," Burness says.

Some pundits have accused Bell of being partial to Duke and have used the University as another example of the mayor's accommodation to the more powerful entities in the city.

Bell, however, quickly tossed aside any suggestion that the mayor shows unbalanced favor to Duke.

"I look at Duke just as I look at any other corporation or business in this community," Bell says. To him, Duke is just another voice in the roar of Durham's participatory politics.

Burness predicts that Bell's relationship with Duke will continue to be a positive one, explaining that the mayor has always acknowledged the impact the University has on the surrounding community.

"I think Bill works hard to have good relations," Burness says. "Bill as mayor frequently will come to Duke. But I also think he is sensitive to the kinds of concerns Duke will occasionally have. He is a little less tolerant to what is sometimes seen as the city bureaucracy."

fter a one-term absence, Bell returned to the County Commissioners in 1996, but by 2001, he had set his sights on a bigger role.

Bell, a Democrat, challenged Republican incumbent Nick Tennyson in the 2001 mayoral election. Despite having 22 years of local government experience under his belt, Bell barely inched out a victory.

During the campaign, the media exploited the sharp surface-level differences between the two candidates-conservative versus liberal, white versus black, incumbent versus newcomer-and luckily for Bell, this caricature worked for Durham's voters, a generally liberal bunch. Bell's supporters came out on Election Day with just enough power to squeak a win for the Democrat: he won by only 366 votes.

"I suspect- that some people probably felt that I wasn't going to win simply because of who I was running against," Bell says, a brief glimmer of pride showing in his voice even four years later. "I probably took an approach that hadn't been used very much before because City Council's non-partisan, and I ran as a mayor-but I very proudly talked about the fact that I was a Democrat."

When Bell left the County Commissioners in 2000, he had not declared his intention of entering the race for mayor, and his decision to run came as a surprise to some.

"Bill's a pretty shy guy, not a very public person," Burness notes. "In the county, when he was county chairman... it didn't demand of him the way the mayor of the city's job does, to be out front all the time. There are a lot of ceremonial roles that are demanded of that position. I was frankly surprised when he decided to run. I thought those were aspects of the job that he would not particularly enjoy."

Some of Bell's colleagues on City Council echoed this sentiment. "While he's certainly very intelligent and analytical, he has a very quiet style," Stith says.

Bell readily admits that it took the insistence of several of his friends and colleagues throughout the community to convince him to throw his hat in the ring.

"I took all that into consideration, what they were asking of me, and I ultimately decided that at least I would present an alternative"-Bell hesitates for a short moment-"I ran to win," he interjects, louder and more emphatically-ensuring that this remark will not be glazed over. "I was running to win, but I was convinced that maybe the voters did need an alternative."

When Bell took office, Durham's crime rate was already at the forefront of voters' minds. And as the media emphasizes the increasing gang presence in Durham, the issue is sure to remain in the public's psyche.

The most recent publicity came in the form of a Court TV documentary-hosted by Al Roker of NBC's "Today" show-that discussed a nationwide rise in street gangs using Durham as its central focus. Bell, along with other city officials, responded disapprovingly to the program's intensely negative portrayal of the Bull City. While the program highlighted gang violence in Durham, it ignored some of the city's efforts at combatting the problem.

Negative publicity is not a new problem for the city. Only a year ago a documentary about violence in Durham was making national headlines. To the chagrin of city officials, Welcome to Durham brought images of guns and violence to the forefront of the public view of the city.

"I'm convinced that it's an issue that the community's going to have to deal with," Bell says. "Various aspects-from the churches, the schools, the civic organizations, city government, county government, the police department-no one of those entities by itself is going to solve the gang problem. I don't think any one person has a monopoly on how we solve the issue of gang violence."

With Bell at its helm, Durham has been known for using tougher police patrols and law enforcement to deal with the problem, but the mayor insists that this is only one aspect of its campaign against crime. "The idea is to basically develop programs and to focus on African-American males in particular in the area of economics, health, education," Bell says, explaining the city's Men of Vision program.

The Mayor's Youth Works Summer Program also focuses on youth-giving at-risk young adults an opportunity to find employment over the summer. "When I did it the first year, we must've had maybe 400 kids apply," Bell says. "The last year, we had over 1,300 kids apply for jobs, but we only had 300 jobs to place. It shows you, to me, that kids are willing to avail themselves of other opportunities. We have to be in the position to provide."

Mid the confusion of often unruly political activism in Durham, there is one time of the year that residents exert their opinions in a more organized fashion-Election Day. Instead of yelling taunts at School Board members or flashing posters during City Council meetings, citizens will fill out ballots in the most symbolic act of democracy.

If Bell wins his third term in November, he will be the first to do so in nearly 40 years. And he will have to prove, once again, that his talents benefit the broad spectrum of Durham citizens that he claims they do. The opening of the American Tobacco Complex and other revitalization efforts currently underway downtown are a few hopeful signs that the Bull City is continuing its rebirth from the "city of tobacco" to the "city of medicine," and as long as voters support him, Bell will stand at the head of that future.

"I enjoy the job," Bell says, cracking a smile larger than normal for his subdued manner. "What I enjoy about local politics-that's why I've never had aspirations to go to Raleigh, to go to Washington-I deal with issues on a day-to-day basis that I can see the impact of. I like being a part of shaping this community and helping people where I can help them. You just see, in my opinion, more directly and probably more quickly the results of your actions as a councilman.... I enjoy taking plans, from creating a vision and then turning that vision into a plan, and then seeing that come to fruition."

And amid the fury, Bell's characteristic optimism rises above the noise.